


just let me stay a moment.

by notspring



Series: the sun looks like your eyes [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Family, Health Issues, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, Recovery, keep going., yk when you kind of hit rock bottom and then you have to like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27668819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notspring/pseuds/notspring
Summary: Seungcheol asked Jeonghan what he needed, once. Jeonghan hadn’t thought he needed anything.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan
Series: the sun looks like your eyes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023180
Comments: 34
Kudos: 123





	1. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeonghan wants to make a smart comment, something about Seungcheol trying to get his clothes off, but it catches in his throat. He swallows instead, nodding, and silently starts to pull off his sweatshirt.

  
  
The car ride home is silent. 

Seungcheol never turned on the radio, and the quiet stillness that stretches between them is nearly unbearable.

Jeonghan’s scalp itches. 

At the hospital the doctor reassured him that he was lucky, that the scarring would be minimal — just a faint line, right along his hairline. _We were very careful with the stitching,_ the doctor had said. 

_Shouldn’t you always be careful?_ Jeonghan wanted to ask, but in the end he’d just nodded, giving a thin smile of thanks. He can’t see it, either way — it’s covered up with a neat bandage, tugging at Jeonghan’s scalp every time he tries to move his hair out of the way. 

He was supposed to start filming for his new drama tomorrow morning — obviously, that won’t be happening. 

“I have to call Wonwoo,” Jeonghan says listlessly, staring out the window. “Let him know what happened.”

“I’ll do it when we get home,” Seungcheol responds, voice clipped. There’s no room for argument in his tone — no room for conversation, either. Jeonghan snaps his own mouth shut, and goes back to watching pedestrians.

The drive seems to be taking a very long time. Jeonghan didn’t remember the hospital being this far away, the last time he went. 

He lets his body tilt listlessly to the side, too exhausted to even hold his own head up. It thumps against the window, rattling every time the car hits a dip in the road. 

He wonders, somewhat hysterically, if this is the last straw. It’s nauseating even to consider it, but there’s a sick part of Jeonghan that feels relieved, too. Like it’ll be easier if Seungcheol just leaves him. Simpler. 

“Here,” Seungcheol’s voice startles him out of his morbid thoughts. Jeonghan looks up slowly — he still feels sluggish, like he’s moving underwater. They’re at a red light, he realizes. Seungcheol is trying to hand him something. He takes it — it’s Seungcheol’s sweatshirt, rolled up like a pillow. 

For a moment Jeonghan just stares at the fabric in his hands, mind blank.

“For your head,” Seungcheol says, looking forward again as the cars in front of him start to move. “It keeps hitting the window.”

Jeonghan’s hands clench around the sweatshirt. He swallows hard, then nods, carefully tucking it between his shoulder and his neck before he leans back against the window.

He drifts off like that, lulled by the smooth movement of the car. 

The next thing he knows Seungcheol is shaking him awake, warm hand gentle on Jeonghan’s shoulder. 

“We’re home,” Seungcheol whispers. Jeonghan groans, opening his eyes to take in his surroundings. 

Seungcheol’s sweatshirt, still pressed to his cheek. The cotton-scented air freshener Jeonghan bought for his car. The dim grey of the parking garage around them.

“Okay,” he mumbles. He reaches for the seatbelt buckle, but Seungcheol stops him.

“I’ll come around,” he says. Jeonghan frowns, irritated at being babied, but he’s too tired to stage much of a protest. He lets Seungcheol open his door and reach across to unfasten his seatbelt before he gives Jeonghan his arm, helping him stand on unsteady feet.

“Do you need me to carry you?” Seungcheol asks, and Jeonghan isn’t too tired to protest _that_.

“Absolutely not,” he says. “Don’t be ridiculous. Just — give me your arm, that’s it.”

Jeonghan’s head still feels fuzzy, the threat of dizziness making itself known if he moves it too quickly, so they make their way to the elevator at a snail’s pace. They must look ridiculous, Jeonghan thinks. If it were any other day he’d make a joke about it, probably. 

If it were any other day Seungcheol would probably laugh. 

Instead it’s silent, the only sound the disembodied voice in the elevator announcing that the doors are closing. Jeonghan leans against the wall and watches the numbers on the screen count up. The 27th floor feels like an awfully long trip. 

The apartment is very still when they walk in. Jeonghan comes home to this every day, but he doesn’t remember it ever feeling quite so sinister, like there’s something lurking in the quiet shadows. Waiting. 

Seungcheol keeps him upright as he toes off his shoes for slippers, guides him towards the living room. 

“Do you want to just go on to bed?” Seungcheol asks. Jeonghan pauses, considering. It’s still light outside, the sky a cool grey. 

“I’ll just lie on the couch,” he decides. He waves Seungcheol off, shuffling towards the couch and snagging the remote on his way. 

“Okay,” Seungcheol says, and for a moment he just hovers there, looking uncomfortable. Jeonghan sinks into the couch cushions, reaching for the blanket that was crumpled up in one corner. 

“I’m going to — ” Seungcheol gestures vaguely at the bathroom. Jeonghan looks at him, not sure what he means. “Clean up,” Seungcheol finishes, and the realization hits Jeonghan, sudden and sickening. 

“Oh,” he says. “Is it still — ”

_Is it still a bloody mess?_

“Yeah,” Seungcheol says, mercifully, saving Jeonghan from having to say it out loud. His smile is a quick, tight thing. “So I’m just gonna — ”

“Right, right,” Jeonghan says quickly. Seungcheol nods awkwardly, and then turns and disappears into the bathroom.

Jeonghan turns on the TV, muting the sound immediately. He stares at the screen until his eyes lose focus, the blobs of colour fading as he dozes off once more. 

“Babe.” 

Seungcheol’s voice startles Jeonghan awake, pulling him up from his murky dreams. 

It’s gotten dark, Jeonghan realizes, rubbing his eyes and blinking at the room around him. Seungcheol is knelt by the couch, eyes wide — Jeonghan’s always liked his eyes. Jeonghan reaches forward without meaning to, cupping Seungcheol’s cheek in his hand. 

“Hi,” he croaks, voice scratchy from sleep. When Seungcheol’s mouth curves into a smile Jeonghan can feel it underneath his thumb.

“Hi,” Seungcheol says quietly, voice warm. Jeonghan doesn’t know how he ever thought Seungcheol would leave. “I got dinner.”

Jeonghan turns to yawn into his shoulder, hiding his disgruntled expression in the fabric of his shirt. He doesn’t particularly want to eat but he eases himself upright on the couch anyway, sighing a little at the strain. 

Seungcheol ordered stew — not the cheap stuff Jeonghan usually gets but something heartier, clearly more expensive. There’s a little cup of pills by his plate, and Jeonghan pokes at them with a curious finger as he sits. The doctor didn’t prescribe him anything but pain medication for his head, and he knows it doesn’t look like that. 

“Supplements,” Seungcheol says, when Jeonghan looks up at him for explanation. Jeonghan’s mouth twists into a frown. He hates things like that — Seungcheol _knows_ he hates things like that. 

“I don’t really think a multivitamin is gonna solve anything,” Jeonghan says, dunking his spoon into the bowl and watching it fill with broth. 

“Just — ” Seungcheol says, a little too loud, before he cuts himself off, pinching his mouth shut. “Please,” he says, softer. Pleading.

Jeonghan takes two of the pills before his next bite, washing them down with a glass of water — a concession. He doesn’t look at Seungcheol as he does it. 

“Thanks for cleaning up the bathroom,” Jeonghan offers after a moment, eyes finally flicking upward to meet Seungcheol’s.

“Of course,” Seungcheol says immediately, gaze softening. He’s always so soft, everything showing on his face. Jeonghan doesn’t understand how he can care so much. Doesn’t understand how it hasn’t torn him apart.

Jeonghan makes it through most of the bowl before he gives up, pushing it away and leaning back in his chair. The food should have made him feel better, he’s pretty sure, but instead it just sits in his stomach, heavy and unwelcome. He rests his arms on the table, then his head on his arms. 

“I guess a shower’s out of the question,” he says into the table, because if he can’t make this lighter he thinks it’ll crush him. 

Seungcheol’s laugh is a startled bark.

“I smell like hospital,” Jeonghan moans, and when he finally lifts his head Seungcheol has both his hands covering his face, his laughter gone silent and hiccuping. Jeonghan doesn’t think he’s imagining the slightly hysterical edge.

Seungcheol pulls his hands down slowly as Jeonghan watches, until his chin is cupped neatly in his palms. He stares at Jeonghan for a long moment like that, gaze fond and concerned in equal measure. 

“What? Is there something on my face?” Jeonghan asks, but Seungcheol only shakes his head. 

“C’mon,” he says, pushing his chair back to stand up. He offers a hand to help Jeonghan up, guides him towards the bathroom. 

He really did a good job cleaning, Jeonghan notes with some surprise as he takes a look around. The tile looks pristine. 

“I’ll help you,” Seungcheol says, turning on the tap and letting it warm up. 

Jeonghan wants to make a smart comment, something about Seungcheol trying to get his clothes off, but it catches in his throat. He swallows instead, nodding, and silently starts to pull off his sweatshirt. 

Seungcheol is unbearably careful with him, so tender it aches. The very recent memory of what happened the last time he used the shower keeps Jeonghan docile, pliant under Seungcheol’s hands. He lets himself lean into it, Seungcheol’s hands warm and sure as they rinse the shampoo out of Jeonghan’s hair, the soap off his body. 

“There you are,” Seungcheol says afterward, laughing, when Jeonghan’s head pokes out from where he’d been towelling his hair dry with perhaps a little too much vigour. 

“Here I am,” Jeonghan says, smiling. 

Here he is.

“I don’t want to fight,” Seungcheol murmurs once they’re tucked into bed, his voice a quiet rumble in Jeonghan’s ear. He sounds so tired. “But you can’t keep going like this.”

The exhaustion and terror of the day wash over Jeonghan in a sickening wave, his heart stumbling in his chest. Part of him wants to twist around in Seungcheol’s arms and tell him to shut up, to get out. Wants to tell Seungcheol that he doesn’t need his help.

Jeonghan doesn’t give into the impulse.

“I know,” he whispers, instead.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey sorry i'm going through something rn and i've decided to make it everybody's problem


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he gets to one hundred he’ll stand up.

  
  
When Jeonghan wakes up the room is dark. He still feels blurry, disoriented; he pats around the bed only to find it empty. He’s alone.

No — 

Not quite. 

There’s a voice coming from the kitchen. Jeonghan strains his ears, but Seungcheol’s speaking too quietly for Jeonghan to make any of it out. Jeonghan listens as Seungcheol’s voice cuts off with a small gasp, then a choked sob. Something clenches inside Jeonghan’s chest.

Jeonghan wants to get up, to go to him. He wants to tell Seungcheol that it’s fine, see? He’s fine. It’s nothing for Seungcheol to cry about. 

He wants to, he does, it’s just that his legs feel so heavy.

Jeonghan lies on the bed, counting in his head. When he gets to ten he’ll stand up. 

The bed feels like it’s moving, a slow steady tilt underneath him. 

When he gets to thirty, he’ll stand up. 

His head aches, a steady throb. He didn’t take the painkillers with dinner. 

When he gets to sixty, he’ll stand up. 

His eyelids feel weighed down, too heavy to lift. 

When he gets to one hundred he’ll stand up.

When he gets to — 

“Mm?” Jeonghan stirs, rolling onto his back. 

He blinks his eyes open slowly, trying to orient himself. He’s still in bed. His head still hurts. The lamp is — oh. The lamp is on. He turns his head to see Seungcheol standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. 

“Hey,” Seungcheol says quietly. He’s fully dressed, handsome in his button-down and tie. 

“Come closer,” Jeonghan says blearily, beckoning Seungcheol forward. “You’re too far away.”

Seungcheol huffs out a little laugh and obeys, coming over to crouch down on Jeonghan’s side of the bed. 

Jeonghan hums in satisfaction.

“Hi,” Seungcheol says again, smiling. He reaches out to smooth Jeonghan’s hair, tucking it neatly behind his ear. Jeonghan smiles back, eyes fluttering closed at the contact. 

“Are you leaving?” he murmurs. 

“Yeah,” Seungcheol says. “I have to go in to the office.”

“Noooooo,” Jeonghan whines halfheartedly. Seungcheol laughs again, quieter, and moves his hand down to squeeze Jeonghan’s. 

“You’ll be okay,” he says. 

Jeonghan hums again, noncommittal. 

“There’s food in the fridge,” Seungcheol adds, pushing himself back up to a stand. “Eat some of it, okay?”

“Okay,” Jeonghan echoes, resettling the blankets around himself. 

He’s out before he can hear the front door close. 

Jeonghan pads out into the kitchen some time after noon, disoriented and achey. He comes to a sharp halt when he recognizes the figure hunched over on his living room couch. 

“Hello,” he says slowly. 

Jihoon looks up, startled. 

“Oh,” he says. “You’re awake.”

“I am,” Jeonghan agrees, coming over to flop himself down on the opposite end of the couch. “You’re here.”

“I am,” Jihoon agrees with an awkward little laugh, pushing his feet against Jeonghan’s thigh. 

Jihoon doesn’t say anything about why he’s in Jeonghan’s living room. He doesn’t ask about the stitches in Jeonghan’s head, or why Jeonghan is still at home in his pyjamas. He just turns back to his laptop, poking around at whatever he was working on before Jeonghan interrupted him. 

Jeonghan settles into his corner of the couch, pulling the throw blanket further from Jihoon to cover his own legs, and pulls out his phone. He hasn’t checked it since yesterday, all his conversations cut off abruptly around 2 P.M. 

He doesn’t linger on any of his missed messages, but his eyes catch on the one from Wonwoo. He opens it, just to check.

Wonwoo is polite yet distant, informing Jeonghan that his schedules for the entire week have been cancelled and that he hopes Jeonghan’s condition improves quickly. He skilfully manages to avoid acknowledging the nature of Seungcheol’s acquaintance with Jeonghan in any way whatsoever, respectfully referring to him as _Seungcheol-ssi_ like he’s just some guy they both know from the office.

It’s a small kindness, and Jeonghan is pathetically grateful for it. 

“I’m gonna order food soon,” Jihoon says, distracting Jeonghan from his search for a sticker that says “thank you for not asking any questions about my personal life or my bashed-in skull, I hope the agency is compensating you adequately for your discretion.” 

“Seungcheol said there’s food in the fridge,” he says absentmindedly, settling for a grateful bunny before closing the app altogether. 

Jihoon grimaces.

“Effort,” he says.

“Okay,” Jeonghan agrees easily, sliding down even further into the couch like it can swallow him whole. “Whatever you want,” he says around a yawn, letting his eyes drift closed again.

He’ll just take a quick nap, he thinks. While he waits for the food. 

“Seungcheol told you what happened,” Jeonghan says later, around a mouthful of soup. It isn’t a question.

“He called me yesterday,” Jihoon admits. “You know how he gets.”

Jeonghan does know how he gets. 

Seungcheol told him everything not long after they started dating — about his medication, his therapy appointments. Jeonghan listened carefully at the time, not really understanding at all. It had all seemed very foreign to him. He’d asked Seungcheol what he needed, and tried to give it to him. 

Seungcheol had asked Jeonghan what he needed, too, he remembers now. Jeonghan hadn’t thought he needed anything. 

He sets his spoon down.

Jihoon looks up from where he’s been shovelling rice into his mouth, an eyebrow raised in silent question, but Jeonghan still doesn’t know what to say. He shrugs a shoulder instead, fidgeting with the spoon where it rests on the table. 

Jihoon nods slowly, assessing, then turns back to his rice. 

Jeonghan is so tired. 

They’re back on the couch when Seungcheol gets home — Jihoon with his headphones secured over his ears, Jeonghan staring blankly at the muted TV screen.

In the bathroom that night Seungcheol cleans the skin around Jeonghan’s stitches carefully, the fluorescent light casting sharp hollows in his cheeks. Jeonghan lets his eyes flutter closed, the water cool against his hairline. Seungcheol’s hands are warm.

“Maybe you could do something tomorrow,” Seungcheol says quietly. “Get out of the house.”

Jeonghan hums in noncommittal agreement, eyes still closed. Seungcheol starts to dab cream on the wound.

It’s nice, being taken care of. His body doesn’t feel quite so heavy.

Jeonghan lets himself drift.

“Done,” Seungcheol says finally, tucking Jeonghan’s hair behind his ear. Jeonghan blinks his eyes open slowly. 

For a moment they just stare at each other, the bathroom very quiet. Jeonghan makes a decision, then, and slowly lifts his arms out towards Seungcheol in a silent request. Seungcheol stares at him a moment, clearly confused, before he laughs incredulously. Jeonghan keeps his arms out, one eyebrow raised, and waits. A challenge. 

It’s awkward — they can’t quite get their weight balanced right like this, Jeonghan clinging to Seungcheol’s front, legs wrapping around his waist. Seungcheol stumbles into the doorframe and lets out a wounded noise and Jeonghan laughs, startled. 

When Seungcheol sets him down on the bed he pauses, just looking. 

“What?” Jeonghan laughs again, but Seungcheol only shakes his head. He nudges Jeonghan over so he can crawl in beside him. 

Jeonghan burrows closer immediately, arm wrapping around Seungcheol’s stomach and holding tight. Seungcheol’s hand finds its way onto Jeonghan’s forearm, a familiar weight. 

“We could go somewhere together, if you want,” Seungcheol says into the quiet. “I’ll take off work.”

“Sure,” Jeonghan says sleepily, already losing focus. 

“Okay,” Seungcheol says, patting Jeonghan’s arm like it’s a deal. 

They both sleep through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i'm back lol
> 
> you can subscribe to the whole series [here](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023180)!


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the park Jeonghan sits on a bench, watching from a distance as Seungcheol talks to his niece, his eyes wide and serious as he nods along.

  
  
Jeonghan lets Seungcheol corral him into the car after lunch, not bothering to ask the destination as he buckles himself into the front seat.

“I told hyung we’d take Nahyun for the afternoon,” Seungcheol says as they pull out of the garage, eyes flicking over to watch for Jeonghan’s reaction. 

Jeonghan has only met Seungcheol’s niece twice. He felt distinctly awkward both times, baffled that Nahyun’s parents somehow trusted him enough to let him in their daughter’s presence. Nahyun herself had seemed to like him fine, but Jeonghan had the impression that wasn’t a particularly difficult accomplishment.

“That’s fine,” Jeonghan says now, because it doesn’t really matter whether he thinks it’s fine or not. 

When they pick her up Nahyun is just as loud as Jeonghan remembers, keeping up a running commentary the entire way to the park. Seungcheol keeps up with her, or at least he tries to. Jeonghan sits in silence. 

Seungcheol glances over at him, once or twice, but Jeonghan doesn’t let his face give anything away. He isn’t sure there’s anything to give. 

At the park Jeonghan sits on a bench, watching from a distance as Seungcheol talks to his niece, his eyes wide and serious as he nods along. 

Jeonghan could go over there too. He could say hello, could laugh with her just like Seungcheol is now, his eyebrows raising in dramatic disbelief at whatever she just said.

He watches as Seungcheol reaches out to pat her tiny head, Nahyun cackling so hard it almost bowls her over. 

Jeonghan doesn’t move.

The buzzing of his phone in his pocket startles him, pulling his focus away from the two of them. 

“I’m at the park,” Jeonghan says as he answers, not bothering to give Wonwoo the chance to greet him first.

“Alone?” Wonwoo asks after a beat. He sounds — concerned, Jeonghan thinks. Strange. 

Jeonghan feels the familiar urge to lie, to tell Wonwoo that there’s nobody with him. It’s none of his business, anyway. 

“With Seungcheol,” Jeonghan says, instead, and Wonwoo hums in acknowledgment. Is he wondering? Jeonghan can’t tell. He doesn’t know if he cares.

“He’s my boyfriend,” he adds recklessly, staring at Seungcheol across the park as he says it. He needs a haircut — the wind is blowing his hair in his eyes. He keeps having to stop to fix it. 

“ … oh,” Wonwoo manages, after another very long pause. “I see.”

“Just in case you ever need to contact anyone about me,” Jeonghan adds, shifting his phone to the other ear. “You can tell him whatever, it’s fine. He knows everything.”

“Oh,” Wonwoo says. “So you need to update your emergency contact information, then?”

Jeonghan hadn’t considered that at all, actually, but Wonwoo sounds distinctly relieved at having identified an actionable next step.

“That would be wonderful,” Jeonghan says, humouring him. 

“Just send me his contact information, I’ll make the changes immediately,” Wonwoo responds crisply, his professional voice firmly in place. Jeonghan almost laughs, but he doesn’t think Wonwoo would take that very well. He makes a sound of agreement instead.

From across the park Seungcheol looks up, eyes finding Jeonghan where he’s sitting on the bench. He waves, a smile finding its way onto his face.

“I have to go,” Jeonghan says, bringing the phone down from his ear without bothering to wait for a response. If Wonwoo really needs something he can message him. 

Jeonghan watches as Seungcheol leans down to say something to Nahyun. She looks up, eyes lighting up when they land on Jeonghan, immediately tugging Seungcheol’s hand to lead him over towards the bench. 

“Uncle said you looked lonely,” Nahyun says when she’s a little closer, clumsily pulling herself up on the bench next to him. “Do you want to go get ice cream?”

The ice cream makes Nahyun almost unbearable, buzzing with energy right up until she crashes in the backseat of Seungcheol’s car, conked out as soon as he buckles her in. 

“Noona isn’t ready to take her yet,” Seungcheol says quietly. “Is it okay if she comes back with us?”

Jeonghan shrugs, glancing back at where Nahyun has drifted off, cheek resting against the seatbelt. “Do we have anything for her to do?”

“She’ll probably just sleep,” Seungcheol says, shrugging. “She can watch TV if she wakes up.”

Jeonghan shrugs again.

“Sure,” he says.

Seungcheol reaches over to rest his hand on Jeonghan’s thigh, squeezing in silent thanks. Jeonghan looks over at him, waiting, but he doesn’t say anything more. 

“I’m going to go pick up food,” Seungcheol says when he comes back from tucking Nahyun into their bed to finish her nap. His hip rests against the doorframe as he waits for Jeonghan’s response. “You’re okay staying with her?”

Jeonghan nods, nestling deeper underneath the throw blanket. 

“Just don’t fall asleep,” Seungcheol laughs, coming over to drop a kiss on Jeonghan’s forehead. Jeonghan lets out a whine, reaching out to pull him back for a real kiss. 

“I won’t,” he promises. 

Seungcheol lets himself out with one last dorky wave, leaving Jeonghan alone in the quiet apartment.

Well — not alone. 

Not quite.

Nahyun wakes up from her nap while Seungcheol is still out, wandering out of the bedroom with one fist pressed up to her eye, still half-asleep. Her hair is matted on one side, falling out of the pigtails her mom had braided for her. 

“Hello, Nahyun-ah,” Jeonghan calls, so she won’t get worried, and Nahyun turns at the sound of his voice. Her face lights up when she sees him, inexplicably. 

“Hi,” she says, a little shy now that it’s only the two of them, but she makes her way over to where Jeonghan’s sitting. He picks the remote up to turn off the TV. 

“Want to sit with me?” Jeonghan asks, not sure what else he has to offer her. 

Nahyun nods, coming closer. 

“Uncle Seungcheol said I have to be careful with you,” she says self-importantly as she clambers up onto the couch, seeming very proud of herself for remembering.

“Ah,” Jeonghan says, scooting over to make room. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” Nahyun says very seriously, wiggling in next to him. Her elbow digs into his ribs as she adjusts herself. “Just like with the new baby.”

“Right, right,” Jeonghan says, helping her get situated so she doesn’t take out his spleen with her squirming. “You’re a very good big sister, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Nahyun agrees. “Can I play with your phone?”

“Sure,” Jeonghan laughs, surprised, fishing his phone out of the couch cushions obligingly. “Do you want to take pictures?”

Seungcheol’s clearly amused when he comes home to find the two of them hunched over, their heads pressed together as Nahyun rejects filter after filter. The phone looks comically oversized clutched in her chubby hands. 

“Nahyun-ah,” Seungcheol calls gently. Nahyun looks up, startled. “Eomma’s here to pick you up, okay? It’s time to go home.”

Jeonghan watches, alarmed, as Nahyun’s face crumples immediately. 

“Hey, hey,” he says nervously. “What’s the matter? Nahyun-ah?”

Nahyun flings herself fully into his lap, little arms squeezing Jeonghan’s ribs. 

Seungcheol raises his eyebrows in a silent question, but Jeonghan just shakes his head in vaguely panicked confusion. 

“Uncle Seungcheol’s gonna take you down to meet eomma,” Jeonghan says quietly. “Didn’t you miss her?”

Nahyun’s angry little face looks up at him. Her bangs are pushed up at an awkward angle, expression so sour it’s almost comical.

“But I’m having fun with you,” she whines.

“Won’t you have more fun with eomma?” Jeonghan tries, but Nahyun only shakes her head. 

Jeonghan looks up at Seungcheol, feeling very out of his depth, but Seungcheol isn’t any help at all — he looks just as lost.

“Alright,” Jeonghan decides, shifting her in his lap and pushing himself to the edge of the couch. Seungcheol watches, visibly nervous, as Jeonghan stands up with Nahyun clinging to his front. 

“Are you sure — ” he starts, but Jeonghan shoots him a glare to shut him up. Nahyun is heavy, but she lets herself be shifted to his hip without much fuss — she isn’t dead weight, which makes it easier. Jeonghan breathes through the dizziness that always comes when he stands too quickly, letting it pass before he moves towards the door.

“Alright, Nahyun-ah,” he says, nodding for Seungcheol to push the door open for him. “Let’s go see eomma together, hm?”

Nahyun makes a whining noise into his collarbone that doesn’t sound particularly agreeable, but she lets Jeonghan carry her to the elevator without making a scene, Seungcheol hovering behind them with his hand at Jeonghan’s back. 

His arms have started to tremble by the time they make it to Seungcheol’s sister-in-law, but he manages to ease Nahyun into the car on his own. 

“There you go,” he says, fiddling with the buckles to get her strapped in. Nahyun watches him with a mutinous scowl on her face. “Ah, Nahyun-ah,” Jeonghan says, laughing a little at the ridiculousness of it. “Don’t be like that.”

“I want to see you again,” she says, still frowning. “You never come when Uncle Seungcheol visits.”

Jeonghan pauses where he’d been trying to untwist the strap, taken aback.

“I didn’t know Nahyunnie wanted me there,” he says carefully. 

Nahyun scowls even harder — it’s put-on, of course, calculated to get the response she wants. But the sentiment is genuine, Jeonghan thinks. 

“I’ll come next time, okay?” he says, an appeasement and an apology all at once. 

“Promise?” Nahyun says skeptically, her face still red with upset. 

“Promise,” Jeonghan says, fighting to keep his face solemn as he holds out his pinky. “If eomma and appa say it’s okay, I’ll be there.”

“Okay,” Nahyun say mulishly, letting him link their pinkies together before she slumps back down in her carseat. Jeonghan reaches out to pat her head one last time before turning back to find Seungcheol and Yeonah deep in conversation. Seungcheol’s eyebrows look concerned; Yeonah’s mouth is set in a grim line. 

“Nahyun’s ready!” Jeonghan says brightly, and both their faces clear as they turn towards him in unison. Seungcheol looks taken aback when he sees her tucked neatly into her carseat, clearly shocked that Jeonghan managed it. 

“Nahyun-ah!” Yeonah says, pasting a bright smile on her face and coming over to double-check the buckle. “You’re all ready to go!”

“Uncle Jeonghan did it,” Nahyun says, her childish anger already starting to fade. “He says he’ll come visit me, too.”

Seungcheol turns to stare at Jeonghan. He smiles placidly in response.

“That’s right, Nahyun-ah,” he says, moving to lean against Seungcheol’s side. “Uncle Seungcheol and I will both come. Right?”

“Right,” Seungcheol says firmly as his arm comes up to rest at Jeonghan’s waist, a familiar weight. 

“You’ll really come visit next time?” Seungcheol calls from the bathroom later that night, dinner finished and the leftovers shoved into the fridge. He pokes his head out to catch Jeonghan’s response, toothbrush still clutched in one hand.

“I promised Nahyun, didn’t I?” Jeonghan says.

Seungcheol nods, looking so honestly pleased that Jeonghan feels a little embarrassed.

“She’s a friendly kid," he says, not sure if it’s an explanation or a justification.

"She is," Seungcheol agrees. "She must get it from Yeonah, hyung and I weren't like that.”

"I wasn't either," Jeonghan admits as he comes closer.

"No?" Seungcheol asks, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"No," Jeonghan says, blinking up at him. "I was shy.”

Seungcheol pauses, considering. His eyes are warm.

"I bet you were cute," he says, finally.

"Extremely," Jeonghan agrees.

"You'll have to show me pictures," Seungcheol says, fond and familiar. Their faces are very close. 

"I will if you will.” Jeonghan means it to tease, but it comes out like a promise instead.

Seungcheol’s smile doesn’t fade — worse, it gets even softer. Jeonghan gives up, leaning forward to rest his head against Seungcheol’s shoulder, his arms wrapping around Seungcheol’s waist. 

“You really scared me,” Seungcheol says after a moment. Jeonghan is pressed so close he feels the words as much as he hears them.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

Seungcheol takes a deep breath. When he nods Jeonghan's head moves, too.

“You’re stuck with me, you know that right?” Jeonghan says, finally pulling back to get a better look at Seungcheol’s face. 

Seungcheol nods again, carefully, a worried wrinkle between his eyebrows. Jeonghan reaches up to smooth it with his thumb, his other hand cupping Seungcheol’s chin. 

“Go rinse,” Jeonghan says, taking a step back. Seungcheol looks at the toothbrush in his hand like he’d forgotten it was there, expression clearing as he lets out an embarrassed laugh.

“Right,” he says, turning back towards the sink.

“Take your time,” Jeonghan says, leaning his head against the doorframe as he waits. “I’ll be here.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for making it to the end with me♡ i might come back to the series in the future, so if you want you can subscribe to the whole thing [here](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023180)!
> 
> edit: i am back on twitter again, and there is a tiny deleted scene [here](https://twitter.com/springnotspring/status/1341738013429170183?s=21) if you're interested♡


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